


Things in Small Packages

by breathtaken



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Cock Slapping, Coercion Play, Community: criticalkink, Crying, Humiliation, M/M, Negotiated No Means Yes, Nerds in Love, Polyamory, Safewords, Small Penis, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-31 20:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathtaken/pseuds/breathtaken
Summary: Sam’s not been with anyone but his wife for more than twenty years. She knows how to touch him, what to say. They figured it out together; he’s never had to explain anything to her.It’s different when you’re both guys. Maybe it shouldn’t be but it is, and it’sdefinitelydifferent when there are certain ways in which you know you don’t measure up, and you kind of hate that but kind of love it at the same time, and want to be told all about it but only in very specific ways.





	1. Jump

**Author's Note:**

> Polished-up fill for [this kink meme prompt](https://criticalkink.dreamwidth.org/3385.html?thread=1214521#cmt1214521): small penis, humiliation.
> 
> **Content notes:** Coercion play (consensual/negotiated 'no means yes').
> 
> As usual, don't share this; let's keep it exclusively for the people who came looking for it.

It’s a Sunday afternoon, Sam’s home alone and his best friend Liam’s on his way over, and for the first time in as long as he can remember, he’s _ terrified. _

He guesses that having an accidental drunken makeout with your best friend who then propositions you only for you to realise you’re actually into it _ and _ your wife somehow approving of said idea and giving you a free house so you can make good on said proposition will do that to a guy. 

Yeah. Okay. Starting from the beginning, then.

Sam’s loved Liam for almost as long as he’s known him, and for the vast majority of that time he’s thought very little about it. It’s always been as much a fact of their friendship as outrageous flirting has, which if he had the benefit of hindsight right from the start, might have clued him in a whole lot earlier.

But no such luck, and Sam’s moment of realization showed up seventeen years late with vodka-spiked Starbucks, during their private post-Kickstarter celebration: just the eight of them plus Brian over at Laura and Travis’, all high on their own success and more than a little drunk to boot, and he remembers at one point holding onto Liam in the kitchen and not letting go, and possibly crying because their lives were so fucking wonderful, and then suddenly they were kissing – and that was fine and then it was _ really fine _until he remembered that he hadn’t cleared anything like this with Q and he should probably actually do that before it went any further.

However, that conversation only took place a couple hours later at home, and even though it ended with Q jerking him off while she talked about how good he’d look split open on Liam’s cock, how his neat little excuse for a dick could never hope to compare – 

Well. That brings him neatly (ha) to the main problem. Apart from the fact that getting this wrong could bring almost two decades of friendship, his marriage, Liam’s marriage and the entire company crashing down around them, of course.

Sam’s not been with anyone but his wife for more than twenty years. She knows how to touch him, what to say. They figured it out together; he’s never had to explain anything to her.

The idea of trying to _ explain _to Liam makes him feel – well. Small. (And not in the good way.)

It’s different when you’re both guys. Maybe it shouldn’t be but it is, and it’s _ definitely _ different when there are certain ways in which you know you don’t measure up, and you kind of hate that but kind of love it at the same time, and want to be told all about it but only in very specific ways. 

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Liam with his life, his heart, and his predilections. It’s just –

The doorbell rings.

When he opens up, the first thing Liam says is, “Well, you’re either about to break my heart or jump my bones, and I really don’t know which.”

Sam knows his gallows humour when he hears it, and though he should probably make a joke of his own in reply, for probably the first time in their long friendship, he doesn’t think he has it in him. 

Instead he leans against the wall, shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at the floor.

“I’m scared,” he confesses.

Liam shuts the door.

“Me too. But I thought about pretending it never happened for about half a second before realising I _ couldn’t. _ However easier it would have been.” When Sam looks up he’s raking a hand through his hair, before giving Sam a look of such tentative hope that he feels his throat growing dangerously thick. “I can’t help noticing you haven’t broken my heart yet.”

He’s right, Sam realizes: pretending they could ignore this and it would somehow go away is utterly unthinkable, for him as well. 

Which only leaves one other option.

He wishes they’d already been doing it for years, just so they wouldn’t ever have to do it for the first time.

“I love you, you know that. Maybe I’m _ in _ love with you? I don’t really know. It sort of snuck up on me.” Sam laughs shakily, and rubs the back of his neck. “And Q was – _ very _enthusiastic.” When Liam raises an eyebrow, Sam’s worried he might actually be blushing. “That is, I want to try. Jumping your bones, I mean.”

Liam’s watching him _ so _ carefully as he says, “We can go absolutely as slow as you need.”

“Maybe I don’t _ want _ slow,” Sam objects, a little frustrated. “Maybe I just –”

He stops talking when Liam steps forward and kisses him.

This time he’s sober, so it’s infinitely better, and also infinitely more terrifying.

When Liam pulls away, he takes Sam’s face in his hands. “Then we can ‘just’.”

Sam lets out an unsteady breath and says, “I’m into some stuff.”

He may not know what the fuck he’s doing here, but he does know that they’re too old to dance around it like teenagers. If his weird kinks are gonna sink this then he’d rather just get it over with before he starts to hope. 

He doesn’t know if having Liam touching him, hands on his waist as he presses into his space, makes it easier or harder. It kinda feels like both at once.

Liam raises an eyebrow. “Okay. Is this part of your being scared?”

“I think everything is. But – yeah. Part of it.”

“Okay.” Liam’s fingers work their way under the hem of Sam’s shirt, stroking his sides until he squirms. “Well, I like to think I’m a pretty open-minded guy. I doubt you’ll shock me. And if I’m not into what you’re into, then I’d like to hope we can still enjoy doing things the old-fashioned way.” Sam nods, a little shakily. “So, what’s your poison?”

Sam sighs. “You’ve seen my dick.”

Liam frowns, bemused. “Once or twice. Though I wasn’t exactly looking closely.”

“It’s – not large.”

“It seemed perfectly respectable to me?”

“It’s statistically below average,” Sam argues, feeling his face heating as he does – but he’s committed to this now, and there’s no backing out. “Trust me. I checked.”

“O-kay,” Liam says slowly, “is this an insecurity or a kink, because…?”

Sam shrugs helplessly. “Both?”

“Okay.” Liam’s hand is pressing against the small of Sam’s back, pulling him just a little closer as he turns his head to speak into Sam’s ear, voice soft and intimate. “So how would this go?”

Sam opens his mouth, and then closes it again.

He _ can’t. _Not even to his best friend in all the world.

It took him literally _ years _ to be even halfway comfortable with talking to his wife about this; there’s simply no way he’d be able to spit it all out in a single conversation. Not even for Liam.

When a couple seconds have passed in silence, Liam says, “Would it help if I tell you some of mine? I’m not averse to being slapped about a bit, having my hair pulled. I _ really _ like taking it up the ass.” It’s even worse when he adds, “If you could fuck me so hard I forget my own name, that would make me pretty damn happy.”

Maybe this is actually the _ worst _idea they’ve ever had: Liam’s practically pressing him into the wall and Sam’s not even aroused. They might just have finally found the one way in which they’re completely incompatible.

“I’m – not sure I _ could_,” Sam manages, over the roaring of his own pulse in his ears. “Do that.”

“Okay.” That’s the kind of _ okay _ that Sam really doesn’t like the tone of. “Not what you’re into?” Liam pauses, just long enough that Sam starts to panic a little before he adds, “Or – are you worried you wouldn’t be able to satisfy me with your statistically below average dick?”

Sam’s mind races: Liam’s tone is low, serious, meaningful. Not quite _ sexy _ – but like it _ could _ be. Potential sexy, if you will.

“The latter,” he says, making his own voice just a little breathier, a little shakier than it really needs to be, so that Liam is in absolutely no doubt about just _ how _ on the right track he is.

Liam pulls back just enough to look him in the eye, gaze hot and heavy, like he’s starting to understand the game Sam’s trying to play with him – and Sam tries as hard as he can to make his own face say _ yes, God, please, yes. _

Then Liam smiles dangerously, and arousal slams into Sam like a freight train.

“Well, I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed,” he replies, and Sam recognizes the same deliberate theatricality. “But there are ways to compensate for that kind of thing. You can get hollow strap-ons, for example.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

This time, the shakiness in Sam’s voice really isn’t faked.

“And I think you’re being awfully presumptuous about what would satisfy me. I think you should let me judge for myself.”

Liam actually _ is _ pressing him into the wall now, pushing one thigh between Sam’s legs and sending a dizzying spiral of heat through him as his hands move to Sam’s belly, brushing meaningfully against the waistband of his jeans.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sam’s voice comes out too high; he’s still terrified – he wants, but he doesn’t, but he _ does – _ and Liam is _ so close _– 

“Sammy.” Liam’s voice drops to a whisper. “You’re saying no but you’re humping my leg.” Sam flushes. “Is this the kind of no that actually means yes?”

“Yeah.” 

They probably should talk about this properly, but Sam’s always been an idiot and he’s hardly going to stop now, not when stopping means losing this heat, losing his nerve.

“Okay. I have a proposal,” Liam says, breath hot against his ear. “‘Red’ means end scene. ‘Yellow’ means I don’t like where this is going and I want you to ease off. ‘No’ means I just need a little convincing. How does that sound?”

“Yeah, that’s good –” Sam replies, words turning into a gasp when Liam kisses a line down his neck.

“You know what I think? I think you’re a tease, Sammy.” Liam cups Sam’s ass in his hands, holding him in place as he deliberately grinds against him, the wall at his back giving him nowhere to go. “Telling me all about your small dick but not letting me see it. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just take your pants down right here and now.”

“Uhh,” Sam says eloquently. He can’t think past the pressure of Liam’s thigh, every shift sending white-hot waves of pleasure right through him.

“What happened to your smart mouth, huh?” Liam teases. “Come on, baby. Let me take a look. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Liam moves his thigh back, hand going to the button of Sam’s jeans.

Sam grabs his wrist.

“Please,” he says, pushing weakly at Liam’s hand. “I don’t want you to–” 

Eyes locked on his, Liam slowly pulls Sam’s hand off his wrist with his other hand, pinning it against the wall behind him and entangling their fingers, as he reaches for Sam’s jeans again.

“I think we both know that’s not true.” His voice is low and silken. “Don’t lie to me again, Sammy. Not if you want me to make you come today.”

Sam whimpers and presses the back of his other hand to his mouth as Liam draws his zipper down, and pushes his jeans down to his thighs.

When Liam lets go of his hand on the wall, he keeps it there.

He looks down: he’s fully hard in his boxer briefs, and Liam’s placed the flat of his hands either side of his excuse for a bulge, as if he’s using them to measure. They’re bigger than Q’s hands, and make him look even smaller by comparison.

“Oh, you really weren’t kidding.” Sam bites his lip when Liam gives him a squeeze, trying valiantly not to moan aloud. “I just hope you’re good with your hands. And your mouth. Cause I don’t think I’m gonna be satisfied with _ this _in my ass.” He traces over the head through the fabric with one finger; Sam’s hips jerk in response. “Will I even know when you’ve put it in?”

As Liam meets his eyes and grins, Sam’s mouth falls open, a desperate whine in the back of his throat.

“Can’t promise that,” he gasps, once he’s remembered how to speak. “But – I can take it.”

“Oh yeah?” Liam squeezes his ass again, thumbs pressing just close enough to Sam’s asshole to make him feel it. “This has suddenly gotten a _ lot _ more interesting. Why don’t you tell me all about that.”

Sam thinks he might just find out if it’s possible to actually pass out from embarrassment.

“I can’t. Please.” 

“Really, cause I think you can.” Liam’s finger is on his cock again, stroking over the head, the wet spot he’s left on the fabric; when Sam bites his lip again, Liam pulls it loose with the thumb of his other hand. “Why don’t you try for me.”

He thinks: Liam won’t take no for an answer. Liam won’t let him fail.

“Q taught me.” The words stick in his throat so much less now that he’s half out of his mind with pleasure. “She had to. I couldn’t make her come on my cock.”

“So now she makes you come on _ her _ cock,” Liam purrs. “I’ve always said she’s a smart woman. So, what are you waiting for?”

“What?”

“Take those down. I wanna see.” Liam winks. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my glasses on.”

Sam obediently slides his thumbs into his waistband, and when he doesn’t get any further, Liam covers his hands with his own.

“If you show me, I’ll suck you off.” Liam murmurs, his words pinning Sam, stripping him open. “Or should I say… _ eat you out?_”

Sam’s whole body lurches like he’s missed a step.

“Yellow?” 

He doesn’t know if it’s _ bad _ exactly, but it’s a _ lot, _ and he knows it’s more than he can handle right now.

As Liam stills he feels a spike of anxiety that he’s completely killed the mood and ruined whatever this is as a result – but Liam just squeezes his hands, kisses his temple and says, “Do you need me to help you take those down, or are you gonna do it yourself?”

Sam swallows back whatever’s sticking in his throat and says, “Help me. Please.”

He closes his eyes for a moment as Liam guides his hands down, baring his cock.

When he says, “_Oh, _ just look at you,” tone almost impressed, Sam obeys before he thinks about it, breath hitching at the sight.

Liam is holding the span of thumb and finger along the length of Sam’s hard cock, flushed and glistening. It doesn’t quite measure up. “If I’d known it would be _ this _ easy, I’d have got on my knees for you years ago.”

“Please,” Sam gasps, half-desperate already.

“What, right here in the hallway?” Liam smirks. “Though I guess you’re not going anywhere with your pants round your ankles. Yeah. I’m gonna suck this lovely little dick and then I’m gonna fuck you on your hands and knees right here, and you’re gonna thank me for it.”

“_Please,_” Sam begs, and Liam takes his face in his hands and swallows his pleas with a kiss.

When he pulls away, he says, “Give me ten seconds. No touching,” and before Sam’s found the words to ask he’s already slipping into the living room.

Sam presses his palms flat against the wall and stares straight ahead, unseeing, taking another inch off his dick in his imagination, breathing life into their story.

Liam comes back and drops one of Sam’s couch cushions at his feet, sinks to his knees and takes Sam’s entire dick in his mouth without hesitation.

_ Then _ Sam looks down.

Liam’s nose is brushing his belly, and he flicks his eyes up and grins.

Sam’s so _ surprised _ that he forgets to hold back, letting out a strangled cry and coming with a rush into Liam’s mouth.

He kind of wants to die of embarrassment, but instead he shoves his pants down to his ankles and sinks awkwardly to his knees, pulling Liam in for a kiss.

“And scene,” Liam says half a minute later, wincing as he gets to his feet, holding out a hand for Sam. “Ow.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I just can’t do that too often.” Sam tries not to flush or squirm away as Liam pulls his boxers up and tucks his dick away, giving it a little pat that manages to be just as exquisitely demeaning as anything else he’s said or done. “All kinky stuff aside, though. Your dick is fine and I would be honoured if you stuck it in me.”

“You’re a romantic, I see,” Sam jokes, relieved. “Do you want me to assume the position then?”

It’s gonna be okay. They’re still them, just with some additional fun we done.

“Not right now.” Liam does Sam’s jeans up for him too, then kisses him again. “I want you to take me to bed.”

“I can do that,” Sam replies, holding out his hand, and Liam takes it.

As they climb the stairs to the bedroom together, Liam slaps his ass on the way.


	2. Mean

**** It’s hard falling in love, when you’re both middle-aged fathers of two who barely had time to breathe even _ before _ you realised you wanted to get naked with each other as well.

Bluntly put, they get to fuck once a month, on a good month.

They’re in agreement on the key points: they have absolutely the _ best _ wives, to make this possible in the first place; they have supportive friends, who don’t so much as raise an eyebrow when they sneak away at parties to make out in the hallway; they have brilliant, rewarding careers, that keep them happy and the bills paid. Short of inventing a real-life Time-Turner, they wouldn’t change a thing. They’re already stupidly lucky as it is.

And as Sam mostly-unsuccessfully tries to argue on their second date, after a little too much Colgin Ninth Estate, for two guys who are nearly all mouth anyway, a relationship that’s ninety per cent anticipation and sexting is kinda fitting.

They continue to work hard and parent harder and flirt outrageously on camera, and now they also make out in the Critical Role office when no-one’s there. More often than not it ends up with Sam sporting an uncomfortable erection and grinding shamelessly against Liam’s leg – and when Liam gets that new look he gets and says, “It’s not like anyone would be able to see it anyway,” Sam barely manages to stop himself from dragging Liam down to the nearest uncomfortable surface and not letting go until they’ve both come, workplace-appropriate behaviour be damned.

Two days before their third date, Liam texts him in their other messaging app, the one they only use for the sexy kinds of messages.

> Liam: _ I got you something so you can actually satisfy me this time _
> 
> Liam: _ I should warn you it’s big. You might not be able to feel much through it _
> 
> Liam: _ Though your dicklet has a lot more nerve endings per square inch than a normal one so actually you should be fine _

Sam makes a strangled sound and presses the back of his hand against his mouth, immediately thankful that he’s alone in his home office and not in a studio somewhere. 

When he looks down, his sweatpants are... well, not quite tenting, but. Close enough.

He wonders if jerking off now to Liam’s messages will be worth how hard Q will laugh about it tonight when he inevitably tells her, and then imagines her humiliating him for it all over again while he eats her out, and can’t get his pants down fast enough.

He jerks the head of his cock with thumb and finger, imagining Liam rolling his hips above him and saying _ yeah, that’s it, pity you can't fill me up like this with just your inadequate little thing, _and comes in minutes.

Once he’s cleaned up, he picks up his phone again.

> Sam: _ Definitely no trouble in the sensitivity department. I checked _
> 
> Liam: _ The real challenge for you is _ _ not _ _ going off like a rocket in the first minute, isn’t it _
> 
> Liam: _Better work on that because you’re not gonna stop until I’m_ _satisfied_

Liam keeps dropping hints over the next few days but refuses to actually send him a picture of the toy, with the result that by the time their evening rolls around, Sam’s wound up to the point of distraction. 

One of their friends is out of town and has offered up his apartment in exchange for cat-sitting services, and when Sam arrives he finds Liam already squatting down on the kitchen floor, doling out scritches. He gets up with a click and a groan and lets Sam pull him into a deep, tender kiss as the cat winds around their ankles, and Sam wishes he could stop time for just a little while.

For the first part of the evening, he forgets to think about sex almost entirely. They cook together, Sam taking charge of the food and Liam taking charge of keeping the cat off the kitchen counter; they have an extended make-out session while the pan’s simmering, luxuriating in the feeling of being unhurried for once, and when Liam looks at him suspiciously misty-eyed, Sam wonders if his heart might just overflow.

They’re two sappy, ridiculous nerd dads who get to have it all and have each other too, and they’re far luckier than he ever could have dreamed.

They polish off nearly the entire pan of chicken cacciatore, and the food is so fucking good that Sam doesn’t even think about what’s coming next until their plates are cleared and they’ve moved to the couch with a second glass of wine, and Liam eyes him with intent as he trails one finger round the rim.

Sam’s heartbeat kicks up a gear as he says, “I think it’s time for you to open your present.”

Sam expects it to be a figure of speech, but the box Liam hands him is actually _ wrapped. _ Even better, the paper has miniature dicks printed all over it.

“They reminded me of yours,” he says, nuzzling Sam’s neck as he slides a proprietary hand onto his inner thigh, and Sam’s mouth is abruptly desert-dry.

He might have thought he knew plenty about hollow strap-ons by this point in his life, but when he rips away the paper, this one still manages to take him by surprise.

“It’s _ see-through,_” he says dumbly, feeling the heft of it in both hands as he takes it out of the box. And _ big – _maybe even twice the size of his dick. “How big is it?”

“Big enough,” Liam says, grabbing the box from his hands and dropping it off the side of the couch before he can check. “I told you I’m a size queen.” He drops his voice into that low, sexy register that Sam is starting to develop a Pavlovian response to. “I thought you’d like this. You can see the whole time just how badly that tiny dick of yours fails to measure up.” Sam bites back a whine as Liam palms his crotch. “Are you even gonna last long enough for me to get it on you?”

Wide-eyed, Sam asks, “What if I don’t?”

Liam grins. “Then you’re gonna be _ very _ overstimulated by the time I’m done.” He reaches for Sam’s fly. “Now I wanna unwrap _ my _present.”

Sam grabs his wrists.

“Not yet,” he says immediately, racking his brains for a reason. “I don’t wanna come too soon.”

“Then you’ll just have to keep yourself under control, won’t you?” Liam turns his hands in Sam’s and lifts them, pressing them into the back of the couch, either side of his head. “Now stop stalling and let me play with that darling little thing you call a dick.”

Sam watches, face burning, as Liam unzips his fly and pulls his dick out of his boxers.

“Oh, _ Sammy. _I’d forgotten how fucking cute it is.” Liam pushes a finger into Sam’s mouth, and once he’s wetted it obligingly, reaches down and swirls it right around the head, Sam’s hips twitching helplessly in response. “So sensitive too. So much more than a normal cock.” Sam huffs out an unsteady breath as Liam pinches the head between thumb and finger. “If I give it a kiss are you going to blow your load again?”

Sam supposes it wasn’t like he was expecting to live that down, oh, _ ever. _

“Well, now you’ve put the idea in my head,” he jokes, though his grin quickly becomes a gasp as Liam bends forward and does just that, flicking his eyes up at Sam like he knows exactly how much of a tease he’s being, before sucking the whole head into his mouth and tonguing his slit.

Sam’s quickly so hard he aches, breathing harsh and unsteady, combing gentle fingers through Liam’s hair until he pulls away, far too soon. “What a pretty little dicklet you have,” he purrs – and telling Liam _ exactly _ what he likes to hear may have been even worse than first letting him look was, but Sam will never doubt that it was worth every excruciating moment if this is what he gets in return. “I think it’s time I take it to the bedroom.”

“Yeah. I wanna fuck you,” Sam says, hand cupping Liam’s chin, pressing two fingers against his mouth and groaning when Liam sucks them into his mouth, stroking with the flat of his tongue.

He releases them a few moments later with a pop, and says, “Oh, you can’t fuck me, baby.” The look on his face says that Sam really should know better. “Not properly. Not with _ this._” He waves his hand carelessly towards Sam’s crotch. “I’m pretty sure my prostate is at least two inches in.”

Sam almost chokes, his pulse slamming through his cock as Liam laughs at his own joke, and he has to grit his teeth and hold back a moan as Liam tucks his erection away again. “Come on.”

Once they’re in the bedroom Liam kisses him for a while, pace unhurried, holding Sam’s hips firmly at bay when he tries to grind against him. “Come on, Sammy,” he chides when Sam can’t stop squirming, he’s as hard as a rock and there’s a wet spot on his boxers that keeps shifting roughly against the head of his cock, keeping him firmly on edge. “Keep it together. We haven’t even started.”

“So let’s start already,” Sam grumbles, manoeuvring Liam over to the edge of the bed and stripping off his shirt, covering his exposed shoulders with kisses as he works on his jeans.

It’s the work of a minute to get him naked, reclining on the bed with one arm behind his head and the other between his legs, giving his erection a few lazy pulls. Sam knows intellectually that Liam’s cock isn’t much bigger than average, but the combination of the game they’re playing and the way he’s blatantly showing it off is enough to make Sam feel like he could never hope to measure up, in any respect.

Liam smirks. “Like what you see?”

Sam wants to wipe that expression right off his smug face.

Luckily, he thinks he has the perfect trick up his sleeve.

“Let me show you just how much,” he says, taking off his jeans and crawling up the mattress, between Liam’s legs. 

“Mm. Just like that.” Liam rakes his nails over Sam’s scalp as he takes his cock into his mouth as far as he can, wrapping his fist around what’s left. “You know how important it is to be good with your mouth, don’t you? Makes up for deficiencies in other areas.”

“Sure do,” Sam says cheerily around a mouthful of cock, thinking, Liam has _ no idea. _Not yet.

When he pulls off thirty seconds later and moves his mouth lower, then grabs Liam by the thighs and rolls his hips up to move his mouth lower still, Liam’s strangled, “Jesus _ fuck, _Sam!” is a sound he thinks he’ll treasure for a long time.

With tongue and then fingers, Sam is nothing if not thorough, and once Liam’s recovered from his initial surprise he manages to (mostly) keep up a steady stream of dirty talk throughout. “I reckon you could get your whole hand in me if you tried hard enough,” he murmurs, when Sam is three fingers deep and seriously considering a fourth. “You know what they say about small hands.”

“They fit in small holes,” Sam agrees, and pushes Liam until he’s almost entirely lost his composure, eyes glazed and sweat beading at his hairline, fingers twisting in the sheets. When he finally shoves a little at Sam’s head and says, “Okay, that’s enough,” he already sounds _ wrecked. _

He sits up and drags Sam into a hard, desperate kiss, before murmuring against his lips, “You gonna fuck me then?”

Sam grins. “You better believe it.”

As he reaches for the strap-on, Liam asks, “Need any help with that?”

“Nah, I’m good.” This is hardly his first rodeo: it’s the work of a moment to generously slick up his cock and slide in, bracing himself as he gives the sheath one hard squeeze from tip to root, pushing out as much air as possible, almost overcome by the sight of his own dick within, so clearly dwarfed by the rubber one.

Even though he knows Liam must be confident he can take it – he wouldn’t have bought it otherwise – Sam can’t help feeling a little intimidated on his behalf.

Getting the ring secured around his balls does require thirty seconds of unceremonious pushing and pulling, during which time he wilts a bit – but he perks right up again as soon as Liam beckons him closer.

“Let me see,” he says, wrapping his hand around the shaft’s impressive girth. “Oh, just look at your doodle.” Sam’s full-body cringe only makes him grin harder. “I’m so proud of it, filling that cock so well.”

That’s a lie. It doesn’t even reach the end of the hollow sheath, and as Liam chuckles, sliding his hand assessingly up and down, Sam isn’t sure whether he wants to disappear into the floor or tackle him to the bed. 

“Though if I remember AP Physics correctly, the refraction of light through other materials is probably making it look bigger than it actually is.” 

He gives a firm, deliberate squeeze right over Sam’s dick that punches a moan from his lungs.

“You didn’t take AP Physics,” Sam replies, though his timing’s noticeably off.

Liam grins, unrepentant. “You got me.” He rolls onto his knees and turns away, looking back at Sam over his shoulder, a blatant invitation. “Come on, then. Fuck me so I actually remember it.”

Sam doesn’t need telling twice.

He kneels on the bed, squeezing a dollop of lube into his hand and thoroughly slicking up the rubber cock before rubbing it back and forth over Liam’s hole until he grumbles, “What are you waiting for?”

“Patience is a virtue,” Sam tells him, and starts to push in.

As the head of the cock pops inside his body, Liam makes a noise the likes of which Sam has _ never _heard from him.

He stops immediately. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Liam pants. “Just – thirty seconds?” He spreads his legs a little wider, huffing unsteadily as he jostles the head inside himself. “Slap my cock.”

Sam blinks. “What?”

“Slap my cock. Take my mind off it.”

“...okay?”

Sam doesn’t really know how to do this, but it’s not like that’s ever stopped him before.

The angle’s terrible, but he leans forward anyway, bracing himself on Liam’s hip as he reaches between his legs and gives his erection a light slap, wincing when Liam hisses.

But what he says is, “Harder,” when Sam puts as much force behind his second blow as he can from this position, the sound echoes around the room, Liam’s entire body shaking as he lets out a moan that sounds more pain than pleasure.

But if this is what does it for him, then far be it from Sam to criticize.

In the absence of other instructions, Sam slaps him twice more before Liam lets out a long, jagged breath and says, “Okay. You can move.”

It takes a couple minutes for Sam to push the full length of the cock inside, one hand guiding it in as the other strokes Liam’s half-hard cock, slick and gentle, keeping him from getting too overwhelmed. Sam’s pretty overwhelmed himself from just how tight the grip on his cock is, only his concern about how easy it would be to actually hurt Liam stopping him from losing control entirely.

“Okay?” he asks again once he finally bottoms out, waiting as he rubs his thumb over Liam’s frenulum, reassured when he twitches in his hand, rapidly coming back to full hardness.

“Yeah,” Liam breathes, and then, “Are you gonna fuck me or what?”

Sam starts carefully, pulling out until the cockhead catches against Liam’s rim, then pushing back into the hilt in one slow, smooth thrust until Liam lets out a harsh, ragged groan.

“_Oh _yeah. That’s it, baby. Finally fucking me right, with a little help.”

Sam doesn’t understand how Liam still has enough composure to dirty talk. He barely feels like he could form words right now, hips picking up speed of their own volition as he watches his cock pressing in and out of Liam’s body through the clear rubber of the strap-on, utterly transfixed.

“Gonna fuck you myself next time, show you what a real dicking is,” Liam is still saying, voice hoarse and unsteady. “But I’ll make you come first. I’ll slap that gorgeous little cocklet till you shoot and then fuck you till you’re screaming –”

Between sight, sound and sensation it’s all too much: Sam’s pleasure builds and builds and then drops him like a rollercoaster, coming as hard as he ever has in his life.

He half-collapses forwards and braces himself on Liam’s body, breath heaving; he realizes a moment later that Liam is looking at him over his shoulder, his face a picture of faux concern. “Why’d you stop, Sammy? Did you come?”

“Yeah,” he admits, between pants.

“What’s wrong? Precious little dick can’t even manage to fuck me?” Liam grins, sharp-edged. “Is it good for anything at all?”

“Shut up, I’m not done with you yet,” Sam gasps, and starts to move again – but if it was intense before then it’s _ torture _ now, he’s so oversensitized it _ hurts, _ head spinning and whimpering on every thrust, not sure if he _ can _–

“Sam.” Liam’s sharp tone cuts through the tumult. “Is it yellow?” – and _ oh yeah, _that’s a thing.

“No. I want to.” He wants to watch Liam fall apart like this, wants to bask in his cloying approval, his humiliating praise. “I just –”

Liam reaches behind himself and grabs the strap-on, pulling himself off with a wince.

“Hey.” He turns, crawling over to Sam and kissing him softly on the mouth. “I have a suggestion?” When Sam nods, he says, “How about I ride you? You don’t even have to move, and I’ll be done in like thirty seconds.”

“Yeah. Let’s try that,” Sam manages, though he doesn’t quite trust his voice.

“Okay. You just lie back and I’ll do all the work.” Liam kisses him again. “Still want me to be mean?”

Sam grins. “I like you best when you’re mean.”

Liam straddles his hips, holding the cock in place as he raises himself up – and there’s a moment or two where Sam worries it won’t go back in, but the rubber head is firm and Liam drops all the way down with a strangled shout, and Sam nearly whites out.

“Fuck – make me do all the work,” Liam gasps above him, barely coherent as he fucks himself, head thrown back and mouth open, Sam’s nerves on fire as he digs fingerprint bruises into Liam’s thighs, tears starting to run down his temples. 

“_Oh,_” Liam murmurs as their eyes lock – and the _ way _ he’s looking at Sam, like he’s the most precious thing, is worth every bolt of pleasure-pain that’s shooting through him, and a thousand more besides. “You’re doing so well, baby. So good. So – _ fuck _ –” 

Liam’s rhythm stutters as he cries out – and Sam thinks he’s come for a moment before realizing he’s still hard, still unsteadily rolling his hips, and he looks at Sam with his eyes wide and wanting and says, “Slap my cock.”

So Sam does, too strung out to realize that from this new angle there’s a lot more force behind his blow.

The sound is like a shot, a split second before Liam _ yells _ and comes in spurts over Sam’s belly, before collapsing to one side.

When the strap-on slips free from his body Sam feels another wave of tears roll down his face, this time from sheer relief.

He curls into Liam’s waiting arms, but that feels like all he can do. His skin is still singing, his cock impossibly tender, and as Liam kisses along his tear tracks and down to his mouth Sam just loses himself there for a bit, in that moment of refuge.

“Hey,” Liam says a while later, hand resting on the back of his neck, stroking along his hairline. They’re both sweaty. “Let me get this off you.”

He’s gentle, but Sam still can’t help wincing as his cock comes free, red and raw. Liam takes the strap-on away and comes back a few moments later with some wet wipes, wiping away the tacky mixture of lube and come without hesitation, and the care and attention on his face sends a pulse of emotion through Sam’s chest that he doesn’t think he’s quite equipped to deal with right now.

Instead, he says, “It’s a good thing we have absolutely no time, cause I don’t think I’d survive having sex with you more often than this.”

Liam grins, soft and crooked. “I think Q would be pretty pissed if I fucked you to death.”

“I’d haunt you just so I could watch you have to explain to her how it happened.”

“And you say I’m the mean one.” Liam drops his handful of wet wipes unceremoniously off the side of the bed, pulling Sam in for a cuddle. “Happy?”

“Very.”

“Any notes?”

“Nah. It was – yeah. It was good.”

It was _ more _than good, of course, but expressing any of the lurid details feels a bit beyond him at the moment, now that his mind’s no longer clouded with arousal.

Instead he says, “Shall I be the mean one next time?”

Liam kisses his temple. “I have a couple ideas.”

“You always do.”

“Complaining?”

“Wouldn’t dare.” Sam grins. “You’re far too mean.”

And if it quickly turns into a pillow fight after that – well. They’re still them.


End file.
